


Breaking Up is Hard to Do

by betweentheloins



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-18 23:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9407720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betweentheloins/pseuds/betweentheloins
Summary: Harry and Ginny are both feeling stuck in the aftermath of the war, and Ginny knows just how to start the healing process for them both-- but it won't be together as a couple. This is the story of how Ginny and Harry ended: on good terms and in the gentlest way possible, just as they both deserve.





	

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr: @whysotensepotter

Harry crept down the stairs quietly, careful to avoid the squeakiest steps so that he wouldn’t wake anyone.

 

_Skip the second stair from the top of the first landing, hug the wall when going down the last three steps to the second floor, and only balance on the outer edge of the very last step._

 

He repeated that pattern over and over again in his head at night when his brain wouldn’t turn off.

 

_Skip, hug, edge. Skip, hug, edge._

 

When his mantra didn’t lull him to sleep, he would make his way down to the stream behind The Burrow; it helped to clear the ghosts out of his head. He often found himself wandering in at dawn, having fallen asleep on the river bank. Lately Molly had taken to checking on him for her own peace of mind, which Harry only knew because he sometimes woke up covered with a worn violet blanket.

 

He silently made his way out the back door and began his usual trek down the to the bank of the stream when he noticed someone sitting next to it; silky red hair gave off a sheen in the moonlight.

 

“Hey, Gin,” Harry said as he sat down next to her. He glanced over at and held back several comments when he noticed the bottle of firewhiskey in her lap.

 

She took a short swig before answering. “Hey, stranger.”

 

Harry smirked. “Your mum would kill me if she knew I saw you with that.”

 

“Then don’t let her find out,” Ginny told him briskly.

 

Harry began to dig a hole in the soft earth with the heel of his shoe, then snatched the bottle from her unguarded lap.

 

“Hey!” she hissed at him, until she watched him take a long drink from the bottle, which he then handed back to her.

 

“I didn’t think you liked casual drinking,” she said.

 

“I think my life is anything but casual, don’t you?”

 

Ginny thought for a moment, mulling over his words with another sip. “That’s fair,” she decided.

 

“And what about you?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow at the bottle.

 

She handed it to him and lay back in the grass, toeing off her shoes as she went. “I feel like I need to start experiencing things.”

 

“Er...” Harry grunted, not quite understanding.

 

Ginny sighed quietly. “I’ve watched my friends die right before my eyes and yet I’ve never had a sip of alcohol before. Isn’t that backwards?”

 

Harry eyed the firewhiskey apprehensively, decided on one last hearty swig, and corked the bottle, lightly tossing it a few feet away. “No, not really.” He leaned back and lay next to her on the grass, feeling the slow burn of the alcohol in his chest. “That’s just the way things worked out, I guess. A lot of kids fought as well, some of them younger than you. Do you think they’re doing this too?”

 

“I’m not a kid, Harry,” she scowled at the sky.

 

Harry could feel her tense up beside him-- the fire he fell in love with crept into her words. His own heart soared with adrenaline, but whether it was the alcohol or just a primal reaction he was having, he couldn’t tell. “I know,” he told her, “but you don’t see anyone else your age drunk in their parents’ backyards.”

 

“Who’s to say what we do or don’t see? And I’m not drunk,” she hissed crossly. She rolled on her side to face him and propped her head up with her hand.

 

“You’re not of age,” he reminded her.

 

“I fought in a war, I deserve to know what the good things are like after all of the bad I’ve been through,” she said fiercely. After a moment, she added more softly, “And so do you.”

 

He turned and mirrored her position, facing her curiously. “I know a good thing when I see it, Gin,” he said, gently stroking her face with his free hand, “I don’t need to drink to recognize it.”

 

“And yet here you are,” she accused and whacked his hand away playfully.

 

Harry shrugged. “I wasn’t going to let you drink alone.”

 

Several moments passed between them until they both decided to flop back down on their backs again. Each of them lay there, admiring the stars. Harry’s hand found hers and held on lightly, absently tracing small circles on the back of her hand while his mind wandered.

 

“Where are you, Harry?” she whispered, startling him away from a deep thought.

 

“Hm?” He turned his head toward her. “I’m right here,” he said, startled, “I’ve been here for months.”

 

“That’s not what I meant.” Though Harry couldn’t see it, he could almost imagine her brow furrowing at the sky.

 

The truth was, he did know what she meant. They had all been affected. They had all experienced loss. They were all dealing with it in different ways-- Ginny was determined to experience all aspects of life, as it would seem. Harry… Well, Harry sometimes went off in his own head for hours at a time. He spent a lot of time in Percy’s old room alone, staring up at the ceiling, lost in his own mind. The others had learned to leave him be by now.

 

“I know I haven’t been very-- er-- present,” he began, but she cut him off.

 

“Harry, I’m leaving,” she said quietly.

 

Harry dropped her hand and sat up awkwardly-- the alcohol had begun to take hold of his limbs, but his mind was now as sharp as a tack. “I don’t understand.”

 

She joined him sitting up and placed a hand gently on his knee. “I’m not going back to Hogwarts this year. I’ve been speaking with Gwenog Jones-- she’s asked me to try out for the Harpies.”

 

“The… Harpies?” Harry repeated, trying to wrap his head around the idea. “Professional Quidditch?”

 

“Yes.”

 

He topped her hand with his. It made perfect sense to him that Ginny would go in this direction with her career. “When do you leave?”

 

“Next week.”

 

“Okay, I’ll-- I’ll come with you, even if Molly tries to kill me. I’ve got gold-- we can get a temporary flat, and if you make the team we can look for a real place near the pitch…” he babbled, waiting for her input, but she gave none. Instead, she looked into his eyes sadly.

 

“You… don’t want me to come, do you?” he guessed.

 

She shook her head.

 

“But I thought… when the war was over… I thought we could be together again.”

 

“I thought so too,” she agreed, adjusting their hands so their fingers were laced, “But I think we’re just in different places now. Things have changed.”

 

Harry couldn’t understand why his vision was becoming blurry until he felt the warm wetness roll down his cheek. “But I love you,” he said thickly.

 

“I love you too,” she told him, barely whispering to keep her voice from cracking. Her own tears were falling now, soaking the front of her blouse. “But I'm ready to get moving-- to go on with my life-- and it's clear that you need more time. I have to do what’s right for me, and I think if you’re honest with yourself you’ll realize that this is what’s right for you too.”

 

Later, after a long night under the stars, Harry would come to realize that she was right-- this was what they both needed. He loved her, and this time proving it meant letting her go.

 

But for now she leaned in and kissed him firmly, desperately-- what would be their very last kiss. When she was done, she stood up to head inside, but not before pulling up the blanket that she had been sitting on before, which Harry hadn’t noticed. It was the violet blanket-- the one that Harry had thought Molly had been covering him with at night. She shook it out and spread it over his lap, then grabbed her shoes and gently patted away, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts once more.

**Author's Note:**

> A while back I decided that I wanted to get inside Ginny's head a little bit more so that I could, if not totally appreciate her character, at least stop treating her like an object that needs to be forcibly removed from a situation in order to get what I want in a story. So here we have my version of how Harry and Ginny lost their way-- respectfully and with all the love in the world. 
> 
> The intention of this very short ficlet is simply to provide a smooth ending to Hinny in order to pave the way for another future relationship for Harry or Ginny. I hope I've done both of them justice.


End file.
